A Fine Line
by AlucardLovesSteakCakes
Summary: Izaya calls Shizuo up to the highest building in Shinjuku to tell him about his past, and about the emotions he's bottle up for so long. But why tell him now? What was Izaya planning? Nothing, of course, because the dead can't plan a single thing. And Izaya died the day he was born. May you be in heaven for an hour before the devil knows you're dead. Character Death


Disclaimer: I don't own Durarara or the characters...I based Izaya's past on Takano's from Higurashi no naku koro ni...the poem belongs to me

No flames-just review...I love you?

Is it wierd that I wrote this all during Math class?

**Attention!: The only way to read this fanfiction properly and to absorb the emotions of Izaya's position on the ledge would be to listen to "In the City" by Kevin Rudolf. I know it seems like a wierd song that has nothing to do with the story, but the backround wierd siren sound is what I imagine would be playing as the soundtrack for this scene...yeah...**

* * *

Shizuo couldn't believe the words that came out of the informant's mouth. The two of them were on the top of one of the highest buildings in Shinjuku, the only difference between where they were standing was that Shizuo was in the center of the roof...and Izaya was standing on concrete edge. The full moon was high and made Izaya but a sillohuete on its pale surface. Neon lights and the blaring of cars were all around them, but the blood roaring in his ears and the panic in his chest prevented him from noticing either.

"Did you hear me, Shizuo Heiwajima? I said that I love you."

There was a pause and Shizuo swore that he saw tears in the other's eyes.

"Would you like to hear a poem, Shizu-chan?

_The walls are dark and you can hear the scratching of their nails behind the door. They come in the night like specters and snatch the suspecting from their beds. In the morning you find the trees screaming and the faucet dripping. Broken lockers and dirty futons and yet there is no one here. If you listen carefully you can hear the pain-filled cries of the damned. Of the lambs drawn to slaughter. I wonder if you can hear them. I wonder if I'll ever be saved from the hell around me. Does it matter what I think? Does it matter at all? After all, I know that I will die here. Here in the hell that is my home._

_..._

Sad...wasn't it?...my twin sister wrote it...when we were still in the orphanage. She used her nails to scratch it into the ceiling above her bunk bed...Did you know that I'm not really Izaya Orihara? I'm Izaya Hitori. My real parents died when I was seven in a train wreck. I don't really remember their faces because apparently the shock of losing them was so bad that I erased my own memories. My twin sister, Kanra, and I were taken to the Hinozaki Orphanage because we had no living relatives. I thought that it would be a nice place...but I was wrong...so very wrong..."

Shizuo held his breath as Izaya rocked back and forth on his heels, teetering on the precipice of death.

"It was run by a group of men who tortured young children. No...torture is too light of a term...everyday we were forced to clean and cook and if you even spilled a drop of soup you were punished. Punishment could range from throwing you into the sewage tank with your arms and legs bound and leaving you there to drown,to rolling you up in a futon and beating you to death with metal bats, to rape, to locking you in a locker inside of a boiling shower and hitting it with sticks...the worst I believe was the chicken coop" Izaya took a deep breath and pulled out his knife, "One day Kanra accidentally spilled hot coffee on one of the men's lap. When he dragged her by her hair to the chicken coop I tried to stop him by attempting to strangle him...but alas, you're not much of a match for a middle aged man when you're only ten. I was out for about fifteen minutes and I ran for the coop the second I woke up...they had ripped off Kanra's clothes, bound her to the floor, and covered her in bird seed...so that the chicken's would come and slowly peck her to death...it took around four hours for Kanra to finally rest...it was a slow death...the man held me back the whole time, so that I could watch my only family die. When Kanra breathed her last breath...I'll never forget that moment...that moment when I realized that I was alone in that hell...What would you do if you were in my place?"

Shizuo's face was pale and he was at a loss words. What could you say to something like that?

"No matter what you would do...I did something different...that moment something within me snapped...and my mind went blank. When I came to my senses I found that I was standing in the main hall of the orphanage with this knife in my hands." He held up his blade and examined it, "The world around me was blazing, apparently I set it on fire...when I ran around to find some help...I found the bodies...I killed everyone in that place, Shizu-chan...everyone...orphans...animals...the men who made my life hell...I killed them all with my own hands-how, I do not know...but I know that I regret it...I took away the chance of freedom for those children...but I could change nothing at that point. The place was swarmed by the paramedics and police the next morning. Everything that turned to ash by that point...the chicken coop included. I was the only one left.

Two days later I was adopted by the Orihara's. Once again I thought I had a new chance at happiness. Once again I was wrong. I had contracted some sort of unkown incurable illness at the orphanage and I infected the mother who had so kindly adopted me. She died the next day. No one else caught it, and I was fine after a couple of days. But the house was not. My new sisters hated me and ignored my existence. The man I called father came home drunk every night and beat me with bottles or whatever he had at hand. When I was in middle school and met you, I felt that once again someone would hate me. And I was right, you hated me and chased me with the intent to kill me. A part of me feels that I deserve it, after all I destroyed the happiness of my friends, why did I deserve to be happy when they were rotting in the ground? When realized that hate was the only thing that life had to offer, I embraced it. Why not? After all, that's all anyone showed me, and I couldn't get away from it...no matter how hard I tried..."

Izaya turned his back to the blonde and looked out over the bright lights of the city.

"I realized...slowly...that there is no line between love and hate...none at all...I hate you...but I love you, too...I don't know why I feel that way about you...I just do. I won't ask how you feel about me...knowing that you hate me is enough for me...after all, in my mind there's no line between love and hate...heheh! Yeah right, as if you could ever love me...horrible, disgusting, insane me...yes, insane...apparently the trauma from watching my sister die fucked with my psyche. I take pills to control it...whatever it is...but I don't like them...they taste gross."

Shizuo never noticed how thin Izaya was. His shoulders were so narrow and his jacket hung limp on his small body. It made him seem weak. Shizuo felt ill.

"...I'm going to die today...Shizuo...right here...right now..."

That snapped him out of it. He lunged foward in an attempt to pull the raven back, but his words stopped him when he was only a few feet away. Izaya turned towards him and Shizuo's chest tightened when he saw the tears that spilled down the normally smiling face. That smile seemed to tremble now, or perhaps it was a trick of his mind, as words that stopped time slipped past chapped-from-the-wind lips, "Can you blame me?"

_..._

He did nothing-No. He could do nothing as Izaya spread his arms out like he was giving a last performance to the sole audience member to his life. As he fell backwards, slowly, his hair and jacket fluttered around him and dull burgundy eyes met brown. A sad smile crossed Izaya's face and Shizuo strained to read his last words.

* * *

Izaya's sisters didn't come to the funeral.

They said they were too busy shopping.

Only Shinra, Celty, Shizuo, Tom, and a reluctant Namie attented the ceremony. Rain pelted the white coffin as it was lowered into the ground and Shizuo couldn't help but think the weather was fitting.

Celty had her head back, courtesy of Izaya. Before he died, he left her head on the desk of his apartment. In his will he left over 76 million (in US dollars) to Shizuo, along will all his personal belongings. All his technology, all his information, his position, everything. He gave it all to Shizuo.

He didn't want it.

He wanted Izaya Ori-no. He wanted Izaya Hitori to come back.

To come back to him.

So he could tell him.

* * *

"I hate you too, Izaya."

* * *

_..._

_Though no sound came out_

_..._

_He could clearly understand the falling man's words_

_..._

_""May I be in heaven for an hour before the devil knows I'm dead.''  
_


End file.
